


Return to Neverland

by bibliosoph



Series: Neverland (Peter Pan AU) [2]
Category: Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Peter Pan Fusion, M/M, Neverland (Peter Pan), Protective Simon Snow, Simon Snow Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch Is Bad at Feelings, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch Is Gay for Simon Snow
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:01:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22488355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bibliosoph/pseuds/bibliosoph
Summary: Simon Snow's adventures are supposed to be over. With no recollection of Neverland, everyone thought that it would be easy for him to settle into normal life with Baz in London. He's not fearless anymore. In fact, he's afraid of a lot of things: heights, flying, water, knives. Baz is there to help him through it, though, which makes the nightmares easier to manage. He's nothing like the brave hero that Baz has started writing about, the one with Simon's name, but that's okay. He doesn't want to play hero--he just wants to live, bake, and kiss Baz.But Simon Snow still has some fight left in him, especially when Baz is unexpectedly kidnapped one night. Eager to save the love of his life, Simon is reacquainted with old friends he doesn't recall--Penny and Ebb--and some old enemies that can't seem to leave him alone...
Relationships: Ebeneza "Ebb" Petty & Simon Snow, Insidious Humdrum & Simon Snow, Penelope Bunce & Simon Snow, Penelope Bunce & Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: Neverland (Peter Pan AU) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1615684
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	1. A Fresh Start

In all honesty, the past few months had been incredibly difficult for Baz. He was, of course, elated to have Simon with him in London for the foreseeable future, but just redoing Simon's memories wasn't enough to secure a place for him in the modern world. Papers and documents had to be created, his family had to be manipulated, and stories had to be learned. It had been a tedious process, especially for the first week. As soon as Simon fell asleep that first night, his memory altered, Baz, Penny, and Ebb had to clarify what he should remember when he woke up. Baz wanted to know how Simon believed they'd met so he didn't muck it up. That was, in his mind, the most important thing.

"Basically," Penny told him, "it's the same story minus the whole fantasy world and the ability to fly bit. You were reading a story at a library to your sister and Simon heard you. He came back everyday for weeks just to hear your voice until he got the guts to ask you out. Been dating for about a month, now."

"But it feels like longer for him," Ebb had chimed in. "I didn't change the way he feels about you. Wanted to keep it as is."

Baz had wanted to ask what exactly it was that Simon felt for him, but he didn't ask. 

Penny and Ebb explained that, when Simon woke up, he would believe that he was taking a year off from school to figure out what he wanted to do with his life and that he'd been in care homes for most of his life until recently when he found a dodgy flat that Baz had insisted he move out of. According to Simon's new memories, Baz had offered for him to stay at his house until Simon found a new flat that was in a safer area. Thankfully, Baz's family was at the estate in Oxford for the week for some event or another that Baz didn't want to attend, so all he had to do was find Simon a place to live in by the end of the week. If it didn't work out, he could at least have time to explain to his parents that he'd been secretly seeing Simon for a month and that he needed a place to crash and, since the house was practically empty, Baz had offered to let him stay there.

Baz was afraid to go to sleep that night. His mind was on overdrive, thinking about how it was entirely possible that the magic hadn't worked and that Simon would wake up and have no idea where he was. Or who Baz was. 

When he woke up, though, he saw Simon grinning at him.

Today, almost exactly a week later, Baz is helping Simon move into his new flat. Penny had managed to bring back quite a lot of gold that Baz sold to get turned into cash for Simon to use to pay for his new flat. Simon had decided that university was not for him and that he would be much happier learning how to bake at a nearby bakery. It's only been two days of him working, but he seems to really enjoy it, so Baz is happy for him. It beats fucking around with pirates, for certain.

"I feel like you don't have enough stuff," Baz tells him, setting the last box down in what will soon be Simon's bedroom. 

Simon shrugs at him. "I don't really need that much stuff," he says. "Just a bed, a toothbrush, some food, and you." 

Baz rolls his eyes, but he wraps his arms around Simon's waist and plants a kiss on his forehead. "You do know that I'm not living with you, right?"

Simon's grin falls and his eyebrows furrow. "Yeah, but you'll come 'round, yeah?"

"You have my word," Baz says. "I'll haunt your doorstep day and night. All of the neighbors will wonder how you've managed to attract such a handsome stalker." 

He likes to make little allusions to Neverland every now and again, just to gauge Simon's reaction. Well, actually, it had been Penny's idea at first. 

"Just to see if the magic holds!"

But now, since he knows that the magic is holding, it feels more like a little secret than it does some sort of test. It feels like he can somehow show Simon how much he loves him without saying those words at all. It reminds him of everything they've been through when things were very high stakes and life or death, and it helps him remember that, given all of that, living a normal life together shouldn't be a problem. 

"You're not stalking me," Simon protests. "If anything, I stalked you. In the beginning, anyway." 

Baz smiles at him. He really hates having to elaborate about how they met because what Simon believes isn't how it happened. Baz knows that the whole new memories ordeal is probably for the best, but it still breaks his heart knowing that he's the only one that will really remember all of their firsts: the first time he saw Simon, the first time they kissed, the first time they saw each other naked as they showered together. 

"Just kiss me, you thumping idiot." 

And Simon does. 

When it all happened, right after Simon woke up, Baz was scared that the kisses wouldn't be the same anymore. He was afraid that, somehow, Simon's old lifestyle had contributed to the way he kissed––like each kiss might be his last.

But each kiss still feels like that––like Simon is setting Baz alight from the inside. His chin still juts out like it's a challenge, and Baz is living for it. There are no mermaids or pirates for them to worry about now, so Baz lets himself get lost in the kiss. He pulls Simon closer so their bodies are flush against each other. Baz can feel every muscle through Simon's thin tee-shirt, but what he really wants to do is to be able to see those muscles without Simon's shirt in the way. He fiddles with the hem of it and Simon grins into the kiss before pulling back and making quick work of losing his shirt.

In the shower, Baz didn't have the chance to really admire Simon's physical beauty. It was too tender and sad for Baz to feel like he could run his fingers along the lines in Simon's stomach, but he can, now. And he does. Simon shivers under the touch, especially when Baz brings his lips towards Simon's scars across his chest like he did that night. Simon moans and tugs at Baz's hair, obviously a little too pleased to have the height advantage since Baz is leaning down. 

"Fuck, Baz," Simon growls when Baz starts to go lower, right towards Simon's waist.

They haven't had sex or gone below the belt, but they've kissed shirtless a few times, now. Baz would love to have sex with him, to give himself to Simon in that way, but it's clear that it makes Simon nervous. It's got something to do with the constant nightmares that Simon has these days, Baz thinks. From the sound of it, he recalls Neverland in his dreams, but never the good things: just the pain and the bomb and the pirates. Baz is afraid of what will happen when he isn't next to Simon to help him calm down after one of the night terrors takes hold of him. He wants to casually mention that he's adjusted the settings on his phone so Simon's calls always come through, even if the phone is on do not disturb, but he doesn't want Simon to think that he's coddling him. Even now, Simon is stubborn and almost always refuses to have serious conversations. 

"We––we should unpack," Simon mutters, pushing Baz off of him. "And you need to get home soon, anyway. Your parents are coming back from Oxford today." 

"Since when have you been the responsible one in this relationship?"

Simon shoots him a sheepish smile. "I just––I don't want them to get cross with you."

Baz kisses him softly on the lips. "Yes, well, they'll probably be cross with me no matter what I do."

Simon frowns at him for a moment before he tugs on his hand. "Come on, darling," Simon says, knowing that the pet name is Baz's weakness, "help me unpack."


	2. The Note

It's been five months of pure bliss. Simon has never felt more alive than he does with Baz. Baz spends the night at Simon's flat most of the time and is the only person or thing that can help calm Simon down after a particularly bad night terror. To thank him, Simon always gets up earlier than Baz does and makes him a nice cup of coffee to wake him up in the mornings. It's pure, domestic bliss, the kind that Simon thought he'd never get to have. Sometimes, on lazy mornings or late nights, he finds himself alarmed when he remembers that this routine of their's doesn't have to change any time soon. Ever, actually. Simon would be more than happy to carry on like this, with Baz, forever. Sometimes, though, it's hard for Simon to express these thoughts. He loves Baz (oh, God, does he love Baz) but he hasn't found the right words to tell him. Baz hasn't said it, either, so Simon doesn't want to say it first and scare him off.

Though, Baz does call him "love," sometimes, when they're being soft. Which is more often than not.

Simon loves his new flat, but he loves it even more when Baz comes over. It feels empty without his boyfriend taking up space in it, especially because Simon hardly has any furniture or trinkets to occupy his mind when he's alone.

Over the past month, Simon's work schedule started to take a turn for the crazy, so it's always a relief when he can return into the arms of the love of his life. On nights where Simon is working late to close the bakery and help prep the treats for the next day, he finds Baz waiting for him. More often than not, Baz has some kind of delicious dinner on the table and a kiss to greet Simon at the door. Even though they don't technically live together, it certainly feels like they do on nights like these.

Nights like tonight.

Due to an accident that was probably Simon's fault, Simon comes home with flour in his hair and batter splattered all over him. He's in a sour mood about the stickiness and his general incompetence, so he's more than relieved when he opens the door and finds himself inhaling the amazing scent of one of Baz's cooking adventures. Simon may have a talent for baking, but Baz is the chef. He's really taken to it in his free time––he likes to experiment with old family recipes.

Simon feels bad for his sorry state, especially considering that it's their six month anniversary, but he knows that Baz will probably just chuckle at him and kiss the batter off later. They still haven't had sex, though they've done other (really wonderful) things, but Simon wants it. He's hungry for it. It's just hard for him, sometimes, to express that. Or to follow through with it. Logically, he knows that he has nothing to be afraid of, that being vulnerable with Baz isn't exactly new territory, but Simon can't help but feel that he isn't really enough for him. Baz is sharp lines and beautiful edges and sparkling grey eyes that can melt Simon into a useless puddle of stutters and flushed cheeks.

And Simon...well, Simon isn't exactly in the best shape of his life in any sense of the word. The night terrors take a toll on him and he has bags under his eyes. His vision has gotten worse, too, for some unknown reason, so he wears thick-framed glasses that always slide down his nose. The bakery has been great for a lot of reasons, but certainly not Simon's weight, with all the taste-testing and whatnot. Baz has grown fitter, and Simon has just...grown. And he's got a lot of fears that he knows are probably irrational but simply can't be helped. He isn't even sure why he has most of them considering he doesn't recall some kind of inciting incident for them, but they're always there.

The biggest of them all, probably, is his fear of flying. About a month ago, Baz said he wanted to see the world with Simon––to travel. Just the two of them. It sounded absolutely lovely in theory, but when America got brought up as a destination, Simon shuddered.

"I can't fly, Baz," Simon had said, buried into Baz's chest. "I hate heights and I hate flying. I need...I need my feet to be on the ground."

Baz hadn't brought up anything relating to flying or heights again.

Simon had some smaller fears, too, of course. His fear of pirates (the image alone made him shiver in fear), his fear of knives or any kind of blade (it had been difficult to work his way around that one, with all the baking, but he's fine if he's the one using the knife), his fear of loud noises, his fear of complete darkness, his fear of water, and his fear of open flames. None of them quite amounted to his fear of flying, though, which is funny because he can't remember a single time he's ever actually flown in a plane.

Tonight, he doesn't have to think of those fears. Tonight, he's going to tell Baz how much he loves him and then they're going to have sex for the first time. It's a different kind of fear, but it's a good one. One that makes Simon giddy nervous instead of anxious nervous.

"I'm home!" Simon calls, closing the front door behind him. He expects Baz to be in the kitchen, but he's not there. Frowning, Simon drops his bag by the door and starts to search the flat, thinking that Baz is probably holed up in Simon's room typing furiously on his laptop. He's started writing short stories about Simon Snow and his adventures in Neverland. Simon supports him, of course, but he can't bring himself to read any of them. Too much flying, too much water, and too many damned pirates. The stories seem to make Baz happy, though, especially now since people have really taken to them.

He approaches the bedroom door which is left slightly ajar, the light from it pooling in the hallway. He opens the door and has to duck almost immediately as something nearly hits him in the head. He stands and finds a long, elegant sword stabbed into the wood of the door. He doesn't dare touch it. It seems to be holding a piece of paper to the door which makes Simon frown because, honestly, why not just use tape? (He loves tape. A truly fabulous invention).

The note is in the most elegant calligraphy that Simon has ever seen.

Dear Simon,

Your presence is required at the request of your boyfriend.

Kindest personal regards,

S.S.S. Humdrum,

Captain.

Is this Baz's idea of a joke? Simon huffs and enters the room to scold Baz for the letter, but Baz isn't there. The bed is unmade and Baz's laptop is sitting open on the bed. The window is open, rippling the curtains from the breeze outside.

Simon doesn't know what to do. He doesn't know how to breathe. Someone has obviously kidnapped Baz and Simon has nothing to go off of except for a stupid note. With shaking hands, he dials two numbers: first, 999. Then, after he's explained the situation, Baz's aunt Fiona.

Fiona arrives at the same time as the detective inspector. She sits on Simon's sofa as Simon paces nervously and explains the situation, watching as the other officers carefully, with gloved hands, take the sword and paper for evidence.

"Well," the detective inspector says, taking the evidence from one of the other officers and looking at it for a moment, "the lab boys can analyze this little lot." He hands the bags back to the officer who nods and walks off. "We've wired the phone, and two of my lads will be outside at all times." He sighs. "It's possible that this is some kind of ridiculous prank."

Simon growls, his fists clenching at his side. "My boyfriend is missing."

"Yes, but the literary career of him suggests...well, we're on it. Goodnight, ma'am," he says with a curt nod at Fiona. "Goodnight, sir."

Simon shows them the way out and practically slams the door in frustration.

"The police will do everything they can," she tells him. Like it'll make any of this better.

Simon tugs at his curls and returns to the couch, utterly deflated and defeated. "The police can do nothing."

Fiona sighs and grabs a book out of her big purse. Simon quite likes Fiona. He likes her more than the rest of Baz's family, for sure. She's kind to him. A bit rude, like Baz, but he finds it endearing more than scary or mean. And Simon knows that she loves Baz the most, too, and that she'll go to any lengths to protect him.

"It's time to tell you, at last," she says, staring at him.

"Tell me what?"

"What do you remember, Simon?"

Simon furrows his brow and bites at his lip. "I––I remember my father," he says. "And that he killed my mother and went to prison for it. And I grew up in care homes but no one ever wanted me. To adopt me. And then...I remember hearing Baz tell his stories. And dating him."

"That's quite a time skip, Simon," she says, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugs. "I dunno. I've got shit memory. You know that."

"Just...try to remember the things in the middle."

Simon closes his eyes but gives up almost immediately. The only thing he can see when he tries is a fog. "I can't."

"Try, Simon. Do try."

He huffs. He's getting impatient, now. He hardly sees the relevance of it all. "Nothing."

"You know that I'm the only one in our fucked up family that Basil trusts," she says, "so, naturally, he told me about everything when I came back from Oxford. I didn't believe him at first. I mean, how could I? I thought he was totally off his rocker. You? Simon Snow?"

"Salisbury," Simon corrects.

She rolls her eyes but she doesn't seem cross. "Right. Anyway, I didn't believe him until I met Penny one night in the kitchen. They told me about the fight, the one that happened when you took Baz with you, and all that pain...that's when you decided not to go back to Neverland."

If Simon was drinking tea, he would choke on it. He chokes on air, instead. "Where?"

"To Never Neverland."

Simon thinks she's gone off her rocker. "You've lost it."

"He wanted to tell you––"

"You need to sleep."

"He knew you'd forgotten! That Penny and the goat woman made you forget!"

Simon groans and tugs at his hair again. "I'm not ready to deal with this now!"

Fiona, who has never been good at dealing with any sort of emotional crisis, doesn't say anything for a moment. Instead, she opens the book she'd pulled out of her purse and shows the cover to Simon. It's a book he's seen multiple times before—a book that Baz is almost always either actively reading or skimming through to "maintain plot lines and details." It's the oldest version of Simon Snow, the one that came before all of the spin-offs and Baz's new series.

"The stories are true. I'm not fucking with you."

Simon stands up and starts pacing again. There's too much energy buzzing through him for him to sit still for a another moment. He'd called Fiona because he thought that her "cut the bullshit" attitude would be helpful with the police, but she hadn't even said anything while they were here. Instead, she'd remained silent like the whole investigation was pointless. And now she is obviously going insane (or drunk, maybe) and blabbering on and on about a fucking children's story. Simon isn't having any of it. 

"I swear, Simon! I swear...I swear on Baz's life."

This gets Simon's attention. He whips around, his eyes frantic and pained. "Don't you fucking dare," he snaps at her. She can't just do that. She can't swear on Baz's life, even if she's one hundred percent fucking certain of something. It's too valuable. Too precious for a gamble. "Fiona––"

"And now he's come back to seek his revenge!" she argues, still holding that damned book out like it will make Simon believe her. "The fight isn't over for Captain Humdrum. He want you back. He knows that you'll follow Baz to the ends of earth. And, for fuck's sake, you must find a way."

Simon's brain isn't working right. It can't be working right because the things that Fiona says are crazy, but they're also starting to make sense. The fog in his brain lifts, only slightly, only for a moment, and he can see it. It's like a distant memory from another life: a snapshot of an unsettling smile beneath a silly pirate hat.

Fiona's hands are on his shoulders. "Only you can save Baz. Somehow, you have to go back. You have to make yourself remember."

Simon looks down at her, right in her eyes. "Remember what?" He asks, his voice broken. A whisper.

"Simon, don't you know who you are? Somewhere deep down?" She holds the book open, showing him a page with an old, black and white drawing of a boy with curly hair dressed in a leafy tunic and tights. He runs his fingers over the distinct lines of the drawing. There's something about the boy in the illustration––his chin, maybe––that brings an inaccessible memory to the forefront of Simon's mind. Why, he wonders, does this illustration feel so familiar and personal to him? 

Fiona smiles softly at him––a knowing smile. "Yes, boyo, now you're remembering, aren't you?"

Simon quickly snaps out of his strange daze and steps away from Fiona. "I––you need to go."

Fiona opens her mouth to argue, but Simon won't hear it.

"Now."

About an hour after she leaves, Simon manages to go back into his room to go to bed. He's been avoiding it for the past few hours since he found the note because it feels like a crime scene, even if the police didn't mark it as such.

He sits on the rumpled bed and holds Baz's laptop tight against his chest, letting himself cry for the first time since this all happened. A gust of wind blows in from the window so Simon gets up to shut and lock it. As he goes to close it, a small ball of purple light shoots into the room, landing on Baz's discarded laptop on the bed. Curious, Simon closes the window and walks over towards the little light. It's not a little light, though––it's a tiny, winged person. She has purple, pointed spectacles, a green dress, and green boots with little white cotton puffs by the toes. She also has a messy bun of purple hair and tiny, pointed ears. He gapes at this strange hallucination.

"Oh, Simon, I heard the news."

Simon pokes it (her?), expecting his finger to go right through, but it lands on the creature's little stomach. She giggles before pushing his finger away.

"This is serious, Simon! You have to come back right away. I told Baz that the pirates had stolen a fairy and managed to figure out how to get back here, but we both thought they would go after you, not Baz."

Simon frowns at the creature. "You know Baz? How do you know Baz?" Is there some sort of strange hallucination meeting that he hasn't been invited to?

She rolls her eyes. They're small and dark brown. "Really? That's all you got from what I said?" she sighs. "No matter. We have to go. Captain Humdrum's expecting you."

"What are you? A pixie? A firefly?"

"I'm not a fucking pixie!" She groans and rubs the bridge of her itty bitty nose. "There's no time for that now. We have to go and save Baz."

Simon stares at her. "Where? You know where he is?"

She nods frantically. "Yes, Simon. He's in Neverland, of course."

Simon gapes at her, completely dumbfounded. "I––Neverland? Christ, I've gone mental! The whole bloody world's gone mental!" He glares at the winged thing, pointing an accusatory finger at it. "Neverland isn't real. Simon Snow isn't real. Pirates don't fight children. Fair––"

Simon's world goes black.


	3. Long Live the Captain!

Baz is in a net, but that's about all he knows. It's dark wherever he is, and he doesn't remember much. He was writing while waiting for Simon to come home from work so they could celebrate their anniversary, but it goes dark after that. He tries hard to recall anything that happened, but he can't. He has no idea how he ended up here, wherever he is, in some sort of rope satchel. He can hear a flurry of activity outside this room or cabin or hole, but he can't make out what the voices are saying. There are a lot of them, though. 

Suddenly, he hears one word over and over again. It's a chant––a call to bloody arms. 

"Hum-Drum!" the crowd roars in unison. 

Baz feels his mouth go dry. So he's back in Neverland, is he? He supposes that the pirates coming after him instead of Simon makes some kind of sense, but not much. There's no way for Simon to get back here. He doesn't have enough happy thoughts to fly, these days. In the beginning, when they kissed (before the nightmares started) Simon's feet would leave the ground by an inch or so. It elated Baz to know that he was the thought that made Simon soar, but he always subtly pushed him back down so Simon didn't realize what happened. Recently, after the terrors set in, his feet were always planted firmly on the ground with no intention of ever leaving it. It calms him to know that Simon is safe somewhere in London, even if Baz's own fate is kind of up in the air at this point.

The chanting tapers off after a moment. Baz holds his breath, trying his hardest to listen to whatever is about to come.

"Well, my stupid, sorry, parasitic sacks of entrails," he hears someone say. Not just someone, though. It's the captain. Baz's heart freezes mid-beat. Simon killed him. He taunted him off a ledge and into the water where the Humdrum couldn't escape because he didn't know how to swim. His fate was sealed. The curtain closed on his terroristic reign. So, with all of that, how the fuck was he alive?

A roar of laughter breaks out. 

"Revenge is mine!" Captain Humdrum yells. 

The crowd cheers. From the sheer magnitude of the hollers and whoops, it sounds like he's been busy with recruitment. There seem to be far more pirates than there were before.

"Long live the Captain!" an unknown voice shouts.

"I'm very proud to announce that we have Snow's boyfriend."

Baz's grip tightens on the ropes around him.

"Long live the Humdrum!" the crowd roars, repeating the phrase so many times that Baz knows that the sounds of their cheers will haunt him forever.

"Finally, I'm going to kill Simon Snow, that cocky boy that left me to drown!"

The crowd screams its approval.

Baz wants to laugh at him because he knows that Simon is safe. He knows that Simon can't get here to fight the captain again. This whole thing, the kidnapping and the riling up, will have been for nothing.

"And who survived that brawl?"

"Humdrum!"

"Who was saved by the merwolves and then slaughtered every last one?"

"Humdrum!"

"Who took their bodies and made them into a clock?"

"Humdrum!"

"Who went into the other world and stole Snow's boyfriend?"

"Humdrum!"

Suddenly, something opens above him and light pours in. It blinds him at first and he squints as he tries to figure out what's happening. Before he can get a good grasp of the situation at hand, his netted cage is being raised out of the belly of the ship. 

"Put me down!" he screams, blinking back the uninviting sunlight piercing his eyes. "Let me go!"

"Hello, Basilton," he hears. 

He struggles to find the owner of that sickening voice for a moment, but the second his eyes adjust to the light, he finds him. The Captain himself. Whole and alive and decidedly not drowned. Baz sneers at him, though he knows it won't do him any good.

"Comfy?" the captain asked, eyebrow raised. "Cozy?"

Baz is shooting daggers his way, but he's sure it isn't doing much. If anything, it just makes Captain Humdrum's smile grow wider. This is all still a game to him, Baz realizes. A game that Baz is most certainly going to lose, even if Simon can't come and save him anymore.

"That's my boyfriend!" someone shouts.

The chanting quiets down and Baz searches the crowd to try and find whoever is claiming to be his boyfriend, to shut the imposter up. It's not an imposter, though. It's Simon. He's wearing his thick-rimmed black glasses, jeans, and a button-down. Simon pushes his way through the crowd and Baz is total disbelief that Simon is really here in Neverland. He'd think it was a mirage or some kind of hallucination if the pirates weren't very clearly put-off by his presence. 

"That's my boyfriend!" he shouts again. "Baz!" Simon takes off in a dead sprint, heading straight for Baz in his little cage. He reaches it in an instant, his blue eyes panicked and searching. He reaches out for Baz's hand and Baz gladly squeezes his arms through the ropes to get even a flash of Simon's skin against his own. He wants, desperately, to kiss Simon, but the ropes are in the way. He squeezes Simon's hands in his own instead, happy to at least have some sort of contact with him. It's probably only been a few hours, a day at most, but it feels like it's been too long since he got his proper fill of Simon. These days, physical touch tends to scare Simon off.

"Simon," he breathes, drinking in the sight of him.

Simon's grip intensifies. "No, it's all right. Everything's going to be all right, yeah?"

A pirate comes up from behind Simon grabs him, pinning his arms against his back. Simon yelps as his fingers are so rudely torn from Baz's grip.

"Get away from there," the pirate sneers, pulling Simon further away. 

"Baz!" Simon shouts, fighting against the pirate.

"Simon!"

Baz watches as the pirate pulls Simon over towards the captain, holding him in place before the feared Humdrum. He sees Simon's fists clench at his sides, his jaw out. 

Good man, Baz thinks to himself.

"Mr. Humdrum, I want him out of that net in one minute or you'll be very, very sorry."

The captain frowns at him. "Who are you?"

"I'm Simon Salisbury the baker," Simon says, straightening his posture a bit. "That's my boyfriend and I want him back."

"That's your––"

"Boyfriend, yeah," Simon growls.

"This is your boyfriend?"

"Yeah, he is."

"And you're––"

"Simon––"

"You're Simon?"

"Christ, yes!"

"You're Simon?"

"Yes!"

The Humdrum shakes his head, a stomach-coiling laugh rolling through him. "No."

Simon growls again. Baz can practically feel the anger rolling off him in waves. "Yes."

"You're Simon?"

Baz can see Simon wanting to tug at his curls, but the pirate is still holding his arms back a bit, rooting him to the spot. 

"Yes. Is there some kind of fucking echo in here? I'm––"

"My great and worthy opponent?"

Fuck. Baz is totally fucked. Simon is totally fucked. He doesn't remember the Humdrum at all. He doesn't know what the horrible captain is capable of. Hell, Simon doesn't even know what he's capable of. He has no idea, not a clue about the fighter he used to be.

"Yes?"

"No!" the Humdrum cries, turning to try and find someone in the crowd. "Mage! Who is this imposter?"

Mr. Mage, small and red-faced as ever, jogs over with papers in his hand. "Simon flogging, flying Snow!"

Simon shakes his head, his curls bouncing with the movement. "No, no. I'm not Simon Snow. I'm just an ordinary––"

"I've got his medical history," Mr. Mage says, showing the captain the papers in his hand. "I've even got his fucking social security card."

"Excuse me," Simon tries to interject.

Mr. Mage narrows his eyes at him. "Are you trying to put me out of a job? What's the matter with you?"

Baz holds back a laugh.

"Can I show you something?" Simon asks, wiggling against the pirate holding him back. He turns to face him. "Can you let go of me? Just for a bloody second?"

The pirate does as Simon requests.

When Simon reaches into the pocket of his jeans, Baz is half expecting him to somehow draw his sword. He expects that Simon has somehow remembered who he is and that this little dance with the captain was just a ruse to buy him some time to think of a plan. Instead, Simon produces a card, what looks like his driver's license (though Baz can't see well from this distance) but Mr. Mage takes it out of his hand and throws it overboard.

"Oh shut up," he begs, shoving Simon's glasses off his nose and into his mouth so he can't speak. "Captain, put these on," Mr. Mage requests, holding a pair of little golden spectacles out to the captain.

The captain takes them. "I want to see the scars," he demands.

"I'm showing you the scars," Mr. Mage huffs, bending down and untucking Simon's shirt from his jeans. 

"Oi!" Baz protests, not particularly fond of anyone undressing his boyfriend apart from himself. No one's listening to him, though. He might as well be invisible at this point.

Mr. Mage unbuttons Simon's shirt and pulls it open, revealing his bare, scar-littered chest. "This is where you sliced him up during your last fight," he says, pointing to the scar that Baz knows resides in the middle of Simon's chest. 

Simon mumbles something but Baz can't hear it because his glasses are still in his mouth.

"What's this?" the captain asks, pointing to something else. 

"A burn from the bomb we gave him," Mr. Mage supplies. "He's Simon Snow or I've got a dead man's dignity."

The captain, clearly intrigued, removes the glasses from Simon's mouth. They fall onto the floorboards. 

"Is it you?" the captain asks, getting right up in Simon's face. "My great and worthy opponent? My shadow?" He smiles. "But it can't be. Not this pitiful, spineless, pasty, boated coward I see before me. You're not even a shadow of Simon Snow."

The captain murmurs something to himself and starts to walk away. Simon picks up his glasses and secures them back on his face.

"I think we oughtta clarify this Snow problem," Simon says.

"A disaster," the captain laments.

"It's gotta be fixed."

"Expediently, I agree," the captain says with a nod.

"I want my boyfriend," Simon argues. "For me, the stakes can be no higher."

"And for me, sir, they can have sunk no fucking lower." The Humdrum turns back around, glaring at Simon. "And I want my war!"

The pirates cheer in agreement.

"Crush him, Simon!" Baz urges, his knuckles turning white as he grips the netting.

Simon turns to face him. "I won't fight him, Baz!"

"Come on, Simon, pick up your weapon!" the Humdrum demands.

Simon growls at him. "All right," he says, reaching into his back pocket.

The pirates gasp and begin to draw their swords. 

Simon picks up his billfold and starts counting out his cash. "How much?"

The captain picks up his gun and fires it. It looks like it's headed straight for Simon and Baz forgets how to breathe as he watches it unfold. He's almost lost Simon so many damned times, both literally and metaphorically, and he can't help but think about how a cruel an end this would be for him. He can't watch Simon die, for real, on this God forsaken ship.

Instead, and thankfully, the bullet hits Simon's billfold. A pirate behind Simon, behind the billfold, drops dead.

"Hoist and raise the boy!" the Humdrum calls. 

The netting lurches as it begins to get pulled up towards the top of the mast. "Simon!" Baz screams as pirates gather around him to twist the netting, spinning him in a nauseating circle.


	4. Fly, Simon, Fly!

Simon watches in horror as Baz is raised in his stupid fucking netted prison. He calls out for him, but the estranged captain is suddenly in front of him, hiding Baz from his view.

"I'll make you a deal," the captain says. "Fly up there and touch the outstretched fingers of your frightened boyfriend, and I'll set him free!"

Simon blinks at him. "I can't fly," he laughs nervously. 

The captain, it seems, doesn't give a single shit. "Go on, explode out of there! Stop the charade. Free your boyfriend!"

"Simon!" Baz calls from above. "Help!"

Simon beckons the captain closer. "I have a fear of heights," he whispers, hoping that this will make the man concede and just hand over Baz.

"I beg your pardon?"

Simon whispers it again, vacantly wondering why this idiot can't seem to hear things properly the first time they're said.

"You must be joking," the captain deadpans. He starts to laugh, then. A laugh that mades everything in Simon's stomach churn and turn sour. "Simon Snow has a fucking problem with heights!"

The other pirates start laughing with the captain and Simon feels his cheeks turn red with embarrassment. 

"Simon, help!" Baz calls again.

"It's okay," Simon yells, knowing that he's lying but unable to do anything about it. "Hang on, Baz! I––I'm coming, darling." He turns to the pirates. "Can someone give me a hand?" The pirates just laugh at him again, so Simon growls and starts to climb up the netting that will lead him up the mast and closer to Baz. With each inch, Simon grows more and more afraid. If he falls from such a height, he'll surely die. 

"Save me, Simon," Baz implores.

Below, one of the pirates mocks him.

Simon pushes everything out of his mind and tries to get himself to stop thinking. It used to be so easy for him before. He used to be able to turn his mind off whenever he needed to, like when he got in all those rows at the care homes that ended up giving him such a smattering of scars. 

"You know who you are!" the captain shouts from somewhere below him. "What new game is this, Simon? Fly! Stop pretending."

Simon grits his teeth and swings one leg over the part of the mast that stands at a perpendicular angle to the main post, the part that holds the sails. Trembling, he climbs onto it and manages to get himself onto his stomach, grasping the post firmly beneath him. He starts to crawl towards Baz who's eyes are full of fear. His Baz. God, how long has it been since Simon has really shown him how much he loves him? How much he needs him?

"Simon, love, all you have to do is touch my fingers and we'll be able to go home," Baz reminds him as Simon gets closer. He tries to keep his focus on Baz, but he can't help but look down. It would be quite a fall from here.

"Touch him, Simon, and it's all been just a bad dream," the captain laughs from below. "Just reach out and touch him."

Simon is sweating profusely and it's making his glasses fall. He buries his face in his shoulder to push them back up, making sure to keep two hands around the post. He looks at Baz, makes eye contact with him, and he feels his stomach churn with guilt. Baz looks terrified, to be honest, and the sight of it makes Simon want to cry. He's so close to him, just a few inches away, but it feels like fucking miles. He reaches out for a moment, trying to touch Baz's outstretched hand, but he starts to lose his balance. He clings to the post again, too afraid to move.

He gets a better grip with one arm on the post and tries to reach again, grunting with the effort. His hand shakes.

"Come on, Simon. Reach. You can do it," Baz says softly.

Simon's close, but not close enough. He loses his balance again and almost falls off the post completely. He manages to get a hold again but he knows that he can't touch Baz. His body and mind won't allow it. He presses his cheek against the post and looks at his boyfriend, tears stinging his eyes. 

"Please don't give up," Baz begs. Baz reaches his hand out as far as the netting will allow. "Simon, I want to go home."

But Simon is defeated. He looks at Baz, trying to convey all of his emotions with one, pointed look. Baz seems to register his defeat because it's mirrored in his own eyes. 

Just as Simon opens his mouth to say something, he's falling off the post. His leg is caught in a rope so he doesn't fall to his death, but he hangs upside down.

"He can't fly," one of the pirate says, pushing him, "but he can swing!"

"Kill them," the captain demands. "Kill them both."

Simon yells out for Baz, but the blood is rushing to his head and he can't think. 

"Bring on the plank!" someone shouts.

Someone cuts Simon's foot loose and he falls a foot or two before being pulled to his feet. His hands are pinned behind his back again and he can feel a tight rope digging into his wrists. He hisses in pain, but it's not as great as the pain he feels at the thought of Baz being murdered by these strange people. He's mad at himself for being too cowardly to touch Baz (in every sense, honestly), and he's mad at that fairy, Penny, for bringing him here. He told her that he wasn't Simon Snow, but she didn't believe him. Instead, she brought him to the pirates and insisted that he go and save Baz like it was some sort of regular, normal activity. 

"I never want to hear the name Simon Snow again!" Captain Humdrum shouts.

For a moment, no one moves. The captain seems to be talking to a purple ball of light that Simon recognizes as Penny. He wants to ask her what exactly she's been doing all this time, but he knows that it will do him no good. 

The captain turns back to face his men. "Hear me, men," he shouts. "For reasons of good form, I've decided that the so-called Snow will return in two days to commence the arbitrament of the sword. Mage, translate."

Mr. Mage turns to face the rest of the pirates, his face dawning a gross, mossy smile. "In two days, we're gonna have a war! A battle between good and evil, to the death."

The pirates soak in the information and break out into a cheer. One of them, in his excitement, knocks Simon overboard and into the water.


	5. An Evil Plan

It's been a long day for Captain Humdrum. He thought that kidnapping Basilton would help things along, that it would make Simon Snow return so they could finally have their final duel. Ever since the merewolves found him in the water, he's craved the chance to fight Simon again––to see which of the two is the better man. When he was pulled out of the water, rested, and found that Simon had left the island, he was filled with rage. In spite, he managed to capture a fairy and use her dust to get him and some of his other pirates to London so they could increase their numbers. They had so many pirates now that they had started to build a town on the shoreline so each one could have a decent place to sleep. He was sure that Simon's fairy friend, Penelope, would bring Simon back to destroy the his reign of terror on the island, but she hadn't and Simon hadn't returned. He'd even tried kidnapping Philippa again, but Simon never came.

His last resort was to go back to London and kidnap Simon's precious boyfriend. He'd been easy enough to find and bring back, but even that didn't really do it for him. Yes, Simon returned, but it wasn't the Simon that the captain longed to fight. It wasn't the Simon who could see all of the fun possibilities of this showdown. 

"I should have killed Snow when I had the chance," he laments that night. Basilton is being kept in a private chamber guarded by armed pirates. Admittedly, the captain can see what Simon sees in the lad. He's tough, strong, and has a good head on his shoulders. He knows better than to fight back when it's clear he's already lost.

The captain sighs and starts pacing around his luxurious cabin. "What have I done? What have I done, Mage? Agreed to a preposterous plan? An absurd war? Now I'm bound by my word to wait." He sinks down onto his cushy, throne-like chair and runs a hand through his curls, tugging them in annoyance.

"I'll fix you a nice plate," Mr. Mage offers, getting to his feet and piling a plate high with the buffet set on the the long dining table. 

"Wait for what?" the captain continues, mostly to himself at this point. "Whether it be two days or two decades, he will always be a fat, lazy, coward of a Snow. Oh, I hate being disappointed, Mage. And I hate that he got the nice life and gave it all away, and I hate living in Neverland, and I hate, I hate, I hate Simon fucking Snow."

Mr. Mage looks at him, his eyes wide. What the captain would give for a companion, a minion, with even half an ounce of brains and common sense. It makes his blood boil when he thinks about Simon Snow and his damned fairy that's smart and loves him. It makes him so angry that he got stuck with this fat load of nothing whilst Simon got everything handed to him on a silver fucking platter. He's so tired of this game of his––with the waiting. He's done waiting. He's been waiting for over a century to take over Simon's life––to kill him and take what's rightfully his. After all he's been through with their father and his miserable life, he deserves a little something.

It hits him with a sudden clarity, now. The simple solution. "Mage, I've just had a sublime vision. All the jagged parts of my life have come together to form a complete and mystical whole. An epiphany."

Mr. Mage comes over to him with a plate stacked high with food. "A piffy what?"

The captain grins at his terrible, idiotic companion. "My life is over."

"Does that mean you've lost your appetite?"

He wants to punch this imbecile. "Yes. Goodbye." He turns and walks over to his closet.

"Uh, where you goin'? Are you getting dramatic?"

"Goodbye, Mage," he mumbles, opening the closet door. He rummages around for a second and finds the desired item. He pulls it out and points it into the air and walks back over towards Mr. Mage. "No stopping me this time, Mr. Mage. This is it. Don't make a move, Mage. Not a step.My finger's on the trigger."

He turns the safety off and holds the gun to his forehead, anxiously waiting for Mr. Mage to talk him down. "Don't try to stop me, Mage."

Mr. Mage sighs. "Oh, not again!"

It's a silly little game they play––he doesn't even think the gun works after all this time. 

"Try to stop me," he begs. Mr. Mage stays still. The captain rolls his eyes. "Mage, you'd better get up off your ass and get over here!"

Mr. Mage's eyes widen and he leaps clumsily to his feet. He's probably drunk (he's always drunk, for the post part). He wrestles the captain for the gun and manages to take it from his hands.

"Don't ever frighten me like that again," the captain snaps.

"I'm sorry!"

"What are you, some kind of sadist?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. How do you feel now?"

He takes a deep breath. "I want to die." He feels like he's already died, though. He isn't sure when it happened, not exactly. It might have been when his other half went off to Neverland, but it might have been when Simon managed to get him into the water. Or, maybe it was only hours ago when he thought he could finally have his storybook ending and a coward showed up in a button-down instead of his ridiculous tights. "There's no adventure here. Death is the only great adventure I have left, Mage." 

Mr. Mage leads him over to his bed. "Don't upset yourself, Cap'n."

In a weird daze, the captain mumbles a list of things that have gone wrong and things he won't be able to do now that Simon Snow's gone soft.

"There must be a way to get at him, Mage. To get even with him. To get him where it'd really hurt. There must be something I haven't thought of," he says while he undresses himself. "Where is he vulnerable?" He sighs and slides into bed.

"Let's not have any more of this talk of you doin' away with yourself, yeah?" Mr. Mage says. "I mean, what would the world be like without Captain Humdrum?"

He hums in agreement. "Indeed. What would the world be like without Captain Humdrum?"

"There you go!"

"I'm ready for my nightcap," he says, tugging his hat off.

"Abso-fucking-lutely." Mr. Mage starts to prepare his drink. "I think a bit of skullduggery would do you good. Take your mind off this Snow business. First thing tomorrow morning, we'll shoot some tribespeople."

The captain groans. "I'm tired of killing tribespeople and mermaids," he grumbles. "I've been killing them most of my life. I want to kill Simon Snow. I want to kill him, you hear me?"

Mr. Mage turns back towards the captain, the goblet in hand. "I've just had an apostrophe," he gasps.

"I think you mean an epiphany," he growls in response, so exhausted from all of this. 

"Lightning has just struck my brain."

"Well that must hurt."

"Snow's boyfriend," Mr. Mage says, like there's some hidden truth in that statement.

"What about him?"

"You could make him like you," Mr. Mage says.

The captain can't help but chuckle at that. The idea alone is ridiculous. "Say what?"

"No, no, no," Mr. Mage insists, "we could make him love you." He hands the captain the drink and sits down on the bed. "He loves Simon Snow," he goes on.

"Yes..."

"But the thing is, you are Simon Snow. It's the ultimate revenge! Simon's boyfriend in love with the Humdrum!"

"What are you going on about?"

Mr. Mage grins at him. "We could cut your hair," he suggests. "And shave your beard. And you've said it yourself: no one knows Snow better than you do!"

The captain isn't following. 

"Imagine," Mr. Mage beams. "You dress up like Simon Snow. You look like him. You come in, pretend'n like you're trying to save Basilton from the captain, then we lock the two of you up together. You get him to think you're the real Simon Snow, his boyfriend, and, when the day comes, Basilton'll turn on the actual Simon Snow and think that he's the fake!"

The captain grins at him. It is, he has to admit, the perfect plan.


End file.
